


the wanting comes in waves

by Netgirl_y2k



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin
Genre: 5 Things, Cousin Incest, F/F, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-28
Updated: 2016-03-28
Packaged: 2018-05-29 17:37:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 911
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6385867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Netgirl_y2k/pseuds/Netgirl_y2k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You cannot poison a predator with her own venom, sweet cousin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the wanting comes in waves

_i._

When she was seven Tyene sliced her palm open on one of Nym’s daggers.

Nym had clouted her for the theft, and once Oberyn had seen that the wound was not deep he had merely laughed and observed that the dagger perhaps ought not to be her weapon of choice.

Sand Snakes did not cry, of course, but Tyene’s blue eyes were wet and shiny, and so Arianne darted in and pressed a childish kiss to Tyene’s mouth; Tyene's bottom lip was red and puffy where it had met the back of Nym’s hand.

Arianne bowed over Tyene’s hand and pressed her mouth to the angry red gash along her palm; her cousin’s blood filled her mouth.

When she raised her head Tyene was smiling a small, secret smile. “Now we are bound in blood, you and I.”

Arianne liked the sound of that.

 

_ii._

When Arianne was fourteen she discovered a letter in her father's hand, he wrote of disinheriting her in favour of her younger brother; the only person she told of it was Tyene.

She had not meant to tell even her favourite cousin, but Tyene had coaxed the truth from her as Arianne had sobbed, heartsick, in her arms.

“You will be princess of Dorne,” Tyene promised, kissing the tears from Arianne’s cheeks. “Quentyn cannot rule without the Sand Snakes, and we will bend the knee only to you.”

Tyene did not speak for her sisters, and the Sand Snakes would always yield to Oberyn before all others, but Arianne sniffed and smiled a brave smile. “I believe you.”

 

_iii._

Arianne was fifteen when she lost her maidenhead to Daemon Sand, the bastard of Godsgrace.

Afterwards she snuck down to Tyene’s bedchamber to tell her cousin of what she’d done.

Summer mornings came early in Sunspear, and the sun was already streaming in through the open windows when Arianne crept into Tyene’s bed.

“I want to see,” said Tyene, throwing back the sheets and pushing up Arianne’s flimsy nightgown. She frowned. “There’s blood on your thighs.”

“That’s meant to happen. You haven’t–”

“I wasn’t invited,” Tyene said, almost too sweetly. Arianne felt a twinge of regret; she’d promised Tyene they would share their first man, but sweet Drey hadn’t been up to the task, and ever since she’d discovered her father’s preference for Quentyn she sometimes wanted things for her own self.

Tyene settled between Arianne's thighs and her tongue flicked out to taste her maiden’s blood. Arianne laughed, and stroked Tyene’s soft blonde hair. “Sweet cousin,” she said. Tyene pressed an open mouthed kiss to Arianne’s thigh, then moved her mouth up to where Arianne was still wet with her maiden’s blood, and Daemon’s seed, and her own pleasure, and _oh_ , that felt better than anything Daemon had done.

 

_iv._

By twenty Arianne ought to have ruled Sunspear in her father’s stead; instead Oberyn ruled, and Arianne was left with little to do than pursue small amusements and little pleasures with her cousins.

Half of Tyene's chamber's were blocked off with silk hangings, and it was there that she conducted her experiments. Bored, Arianne ran her fingers along Tyene’s workbench and watched as her cousin fed a tincture of poison to a desert lizard, cooing endearments to the poor, doomed creature.

Arianne idly picked up a letter opener in the design of a snake, and found her thumb pricked by a hidden needle in the hilt.

“Careful,” said Tyene, leaving the lizard to its fate and plucking the letter opener from Arianne’s grasp. “It is a poison designed to induce sleep, should I ever have need to read someone’s correspondence.”

Tyene raised Arianne’s hand to her mouth; she wrapped her lips around her thumb and _sucked_.

Arianne blinked lazy as a cat. “Won’t that only make you sleep instead?”

Tyene released Arianne’s thumb with a wet _pop_. Her cousin generally preferred a mask of sweet innocence, but when she chose to show it she had the same viper’s smile as her sisters.

“You cannot poison a predator with her own venom, sweet cousin.”

 

_v._

Arianne was twenty-five when she was crowned Queen of the Seven Kingdoms.

She was unaccompanied in the throne room; she ran her hand across the back of the Iron Throne, and one of the melted blades bit sharply into her palm.

Arianne pulled her hand away with a small exclamation.

“Was it only a little prick?” asked a sweet voice behind her.

Arianne turned to see Tyene in the white robes of a septa, her face so openly innocent that you couldn’t believe she would have knowingly said something untoward.

Tyene was accompanied by a hunched septon and a sour-mouthed septa, and so Arianne schooled her expression into smoothness. “Yes. Only a little one.”

“Your Grace,” said the septon. “King Aegon has asked the Faith to see to your safety and comfort while he brings the rest of Westeros under his banners.”

Tyene spoke up then, “The High Septon thought that my presence might be a comfort to you during your husband’s absence.”

Arianne couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face; she would have to hope that only Tyene could see the licentiousness in the curve of her mouth.

“Thank the High Septon for his thoughtfulness,” said Arianne, dismissing the Faithful and looking only at Tyene. “I am sure a septa of the Faith will be just the balm I need during the long, lonely nights without my husband.”


End file.
